A Hard Bargain
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Summary: Former Imperial Guardsman, Shran, meets with Commander T'Pol in order to do her a personal favor, as payment of his final debt to now Admiral Jonathan Archer.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS NOTE: This came to me this evening in the shower and would not let me sleep till I had it all written. Spoiler for 'E2', 'Awakening', 'Kir'Shara', 'United', 'Demons', 'Terra Prime', and 'These Are the Voyages'. This vignette is a stand alone piece and a serious Tear Jerker, so make sure you have a big box of Kleenex before you read!

A Hard Bargain

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Former Commander in the Andorian Imperial Fleet, Shran, made his way through the San Francisco hotel lobby, heading for the elevators that would take him to the fifteenth floor, where his contact would be. He couldn't believe he was doing this. What would his former comrades say if they could see him now, on the Pinkskin homeworld, entering an antique lift suspended by cables, to meet a female, Vulcan, Star Fleet Officer, in her hotel room? They'd likely think he was delusional, and Shran wasn't sure he wouldn't agree with them. But he owed Archer for saving his beautiful Talla's life, and this was the payment Archer required. Then they would be even.

As he made his way to Room 1417, he had to wonder what T'Pol wanted of him. All his favorite Pinkskin had said was that she had a personal request that he couldn't go into and he wouldn't force Shran to undertake if he wasn't willing, but that he insisted the Andorian show up and hear out, in order to pay his debt. So here he was at her door, knocking on the cherry wood for admittance.

A moment later, the door opened, and Shran silently entered the room. He suspected T'Pol wasn't staying for more than their meeting as there was no sign that the room was being used for a longer stay, not even a travel bag or a coat hung on the coat rack. "So, what is it you want to speak with me about, Commander?"

Moving to the small table in the room, T'Pol sat down and motioned for Shran to do the same. He did so, watching the Vulcan for any sign of what was to come, but found only what he could describe as nervousness in her features. This was hard for her, and that fact that her difficulty was breaking through her Vulcan control concerned him.

Finally, she spoke. "I've asked you here on a personal matter. I require your assistance in finding a suitable candidate for a task… an encounter, which I require. This individual must be trustworthy, and most importantly discrete, as must you. Before I go any further, I need your word that what is said in this room this afternoon goes no further."

After a short pause, Shran nodded solemnly. Truth was, he liked T'Pol, and respected her greatly for her loyalty and conscience, when so many of her species had lacked those qualities during the Vulcan High Command's final years of power.

"As you most likely know, Commander Tucker was not only my colleague aboard Enterprise, but my bondmate as well," T'Pol began, the humiliation she was experiencing diminishing with each word. She couldn't afford pride now, if she were to survive the coming months. The cascade of endorphins had begun. Phlox could slow it down, but not stop it. Nothing could. Humiliation could be lived with, for the only other option was death.

"Those rumors were true? I never actually believed…" Shran stated in sheer shock, an emotion he himself was no longer accustomed to after so many years in the Imperial Guard and then on his own as a private business man of sorts.

"While a great deal has been exaggerated about our relationship, that we were mates... lovers as humans would refer to the connection, was accurate. Our romantic relationship ended over eight years ago, but we remained close friends until his passing. I grieve his loss still," T'Pol stated, suddenly stopping to restrain the sorrow that threatened to spill into her eyes and all over her features if she didn't regain control.

"I'm truly sorry, T'Pol. I know what it's like to loose your chosen mate. You have my sympathy and Jhamel's as well," Shran stated earnestly. Gone were the days he might tease the Vulcan about her affaire with the playful, blonde engineer. He had no jests, only true sympathy, but this still didn't tell him why she had called him here.

"While I appreciate your condolences, our situations are not entirely identical as you will soon understand. Upon reaching biological maturity, a Vulcan enters a state known as pon farr, the time of mating, the blood fever. We must either take a mate, or die of endocrine failure and pyrothermia," T'Pol explained, her voice becoming a bare whisper, as she revealed the most intimate details about her species to an Andorian, the species most antithetical to her own.

"And with the Commander dead, you have no one to mate with," Shran deduced, trying to keep any shock from his voice. He'd had no idea about this Pon Farr before this moment, and the idea that T'Pol was facing this terrible fate shook him, his antennae sagging with the prospect of loosing his one Vulcan friend.

"Correct. My marriage with my childhood bondmate was dissolved shortly before the conference at Babel. However, it would likely have ended when I or Koss had entered pon farr, as I was already bonded with Trip… Commander Tucker, at that time, though neither of us had yet to realize that a bond had been formed. Thankfully, Koss released me from our union, before then. Due to these circumstances, as well as my association with Star Fleet during the Xindi conflict, and the incident at P'Jem, my reputation on Vulcan is tainted beyond repair. If I were to return Vulcan, it is extremely unlikely I could find and bond with another before the fluctuations in my limbic system become too pronounced. I considered asking Admiral Archer to assist me; however, despite his excellent health and fitness for a man of his age and species, he could be seriously injured in the coupling. Accepting his offer would be an abuse of our friendship, one which could result in his death. Andorians are, to use a human expression, 'made of sterner stuff'. They can also maintain an emotional distance when mating, a trait I've found humans often incapable of, particularly when they have a prior friendship with the individual," T'Pol continued to explain, waiting for Shran to understand her request. She wasn't sure, even with the stakes so high, that she could bring herself to ask him to, for all intents and purposes, act as what humans referred to as a pimp, on her behalf. The shame was already nearly unbearable.

"And you would like my assistance in finding such an Andorian male to bond and mate with you?" Shran asked, hardly believing he understood her. This situation really was bizarre, and he wasn't trained to hide his emotions, while his brain began a process of tearing itself apart and reducing him to a rutting beast. Once again he cursed Vulcan culture for its myriad of flaws and hypocrisies, but never before had any of them caused him personal consternation. Now a friend of his was likely to die unless he cleaned up the mess left by those green devils upon her psyche.

"Not to bond with, merely to engage in repeated sexual relations over a two week period. Bonding is not necessary to successfully complete a pon farr; it is only the ideal situation. However, it is not one open to me at this time, nor would I wish to bear the offspring of such. Pon Farr's sole purpose is the continued procreation of my species. Even if I found a Vulcan male to mate with, the chances of my conceiving and bearing a child would exceed 98 percent, and I do not believe I could adequately devote myself to the needs of a child at this time," T'Pol admitted shamefully.

Logically, it should not matter, but it did. She knew she was capable of providing for a child's physical and educational needs. However despite their attempts at suppressing emotions, Vulcans loved their children and bonded with them, even before birth. No matter how much her mother and her had disagreed throughout her adult life, T'Pol had always known she was loved and cherished by T'Les till the moment her mother succumbed to death in her arms.

T'Pol had loved Elizabeth that way, and once the Second Enterprise had vanished, she had also come to realize that she had bonded her heart to Lorian as well, despite the illogic of the whole situation. She had mourned both her children with Charles Tucker III greatly, and yet she had taken comfort in the fact that they had both loved her, Elizabeth from the emotions the baby had radiated when T'Pol had rocked her in her arms, and Lorian from the sound of his voice as he requested Captain Archer inform her and Trip that he would see them soon. From her time among humans, she had come to understand that love necessitated a mutual affinity between two people, and as a result, she also knew that a child that was hers, but not also Trip Tucker's, would find no love in her relation to it, and his or her emotional needs, regardless of her peoples claims that they had none, would be unmet, causing said child damage.

Perhaps someday this dynamic would alter, and she would once again find herself able to freely bond with another, and thus love her children with that other, but her biology would not permit her the time to find out. It compelled her now, despite her current bereavement.

Despite what she had just told Shran, T'Pol knew that the population of Vulcan, with its natural overabundance of males, would likely produce a willing male, in the same situation as she, in the time necessary to fulfill her pon farr, but that would leave her unable to ever heal from the loss of her chosen bondmate and lost children, not to mention, likely take her from Star Fleet if her husband required it. There were moments these days when her career and friendships were the only things holding her back from a very deep emotional abyss, one unavoidable due to her Trellium damaged neural pathways. No, returning to Vulcan at this time would likely kill her, as surely as an unresolved pon farr. The death would only be more painful and drawn out.

Shran nearly passed out, watching T'Pol now. One moment she'd been staring off into space, the next two tears streamed down her bronze cheeks. He had seen Vulcans cry during torture, but their emotional controls had been stripped away by that infernal chair his people used to make them talk. T'Pol was crying on her own, her own emotions torturing her beyond her ability to control them, and Shran wanted to cry too.

However, he knew doing so would agitate the already frail woman… widow before him, so he fought for his own emotional control and won. "I believe I know someone who can help you. His name is Drev. He's an old friend of mine from my days in the Imperial Guard, but he is trustworthy and very discrete, and irregardless of his training, admires the people of Vulcan now that the High Command has been disbanded, although the gods only know why. He also owes me a few. I should be able to contact him this evening, and have an answer within a day or two. He can be on Earth in under two weeks, if that is enough time."

Quickly wiping away her tears and refusing to sniffle pathetically, T'Pol finally forced her brown eyes to meet her companion's blue ones. "That would be acceptable. Thank you. Your assistance and discretion in this matter are both greatly appreciated."

Nodding solemnly again, Shran took T'Pol's hand in his own and placed a gentle kiss of respect on her knuckle. Despite her perverse cultural teachings, she was a true lady in his book. Commander Tucker had been a lucky Pinkskin. He hoped the man had known as much before he died. "Good evening, T'Pol."

And with that final parting, former Imperial Guardsman Shran left T'Pol of Vulcan's hotel room and returned to his own, twelve kilometers away.


End file.
